It's All an Echo Now
by Amor Scribendi
Summary: Childhood memories hold so much light in days filled with darkness. Poor Severus.


**It's All an Echo Now**

**A short Harry Potter story**

_**By: **_**Amor Scribendi**_**© 2012**_

**Note:** _This scene came to me about the events before Severus actually let Lily see him. Before he let himself be known to the both of them that day in the play ground when he saw Lily do magic in front of her sister. In this story, she'd been doing this in front of Petunia a lot in secret in the playground and at home, and Severus had been watching her secretly when he saw her do magic the first time. This is before the events in the last book " The Princes' Tale." I also added the tree for effect._

* * *

Long, flaccid willow branches drooped low; they swept the grass by the tips of their leaves; the enormous tree loomed in the corner of the playground. It threw a great shadow across the yard that touched the swings like extended arms. The effect was a bit daunting, for the swings were at least 2 hundred feet from the willow. However, tucked away high in its lazy branches, out of sight, sat a boy. This young boy was a strange sort with a hooked nose, and long, lank threads of black hair that screamed their darkness against sallow skin. This boy was thin as a stick insect; he rarely spoke to other children, but it was no wonder, for he also wore a ragbag of overly large dark clothing from head to toe on most days, and that set him widely apart from the other children.

They yelled hurtful remarks each time he walked past their homes. No commentary, no matter how harsh, was new to him. The "vampire boy" was what most called him. Therefore, each time he went by, he bore his teeth and jumped toward them with his arms out stretched. The children screamed, and that solicited a gratifying sigh from the odd boy. His sallow, gaunt face with curtains of coal-black hair dusting his shoulders helped the stories fly through the neighborhood about vampires. To compound things further, this odd boy lived in a dowdy home with two warring parents, so each day left him a bit more miserable.

Miserable until his footsteps followed his heart, and took him to the playground once each day before lunch. This activity was part of his life over the last few weeks. From his watching place, the willow, his black as coal eyes wore a new light behind them, and they narrowed in interest as the only person in this world that could make him smile in secret approached the playground for her daily fun and games with her older sister.

'Lily! Do not take off your socks! Mummy will be cross,' shouted a drab child grabbing her little sister's hand and pulling her from the grass in effort to stop her from removing her shoes and socks.

'I will if I want!' shouted the feisty little eight-year-old red headed girl. She stomped her foot, and promptly sat back down with a thump. Before her sister could protest, Lily kicked her shiny, white shoes off, and removed her socks next. The younger child screwed her freckled face up before roaring with laughter.

'See, Tuney, I did it!'

'You are getting your pretty green dress all full of dirt! That will not come out of those pleats. Mummy will be so cross, Lily. Please stand up and obey me!' shouted the girl with the long mousy brown hair that cascaded down her back and sent unruly wisps across her face. The two girls looked to be a couple years apart in age, and the youngest, and most colourful, was high-spirited most unlike her skinny and somewhat clumsy sister. Even Lily's hair was fiery in comparison to her sister Petunia's hair.

Petunia glared at her sister while she stood over her. Lily did not care, for she was busy wriggling her toes in the cool, thick grass. It was a warm day; her feet were at home in this lush carpet of green.

'Tuney, I am hot! I wish it would snow, as in winter. I want to be cooler!' With those words, the small child stood from the grass, and closed her emerald eyes, her long hair slid to her back and trailed down to her knees.

A tempest of fear surged over Petunia. 'No, Lily! Don't!' she shouted, and held her hand over her mouth as if holding back vomit. Now the boy in the tree sat straighter, trying to observe what it was about Lily that frightened her older sister so much.

'I want snow! I am hot!' shouted Lily once more. She stood stone still; her hands rose up and stopped level with her waist. The little child's eyes closed tightly, and she kept saying, 'snow, _snow, snow, snow_!' The little boy up the willow tree hunched over forward in effort to hear and see everything she did. He felt it; he felt the vibration, the ripple of waves across the breeze. Something was coming in like a gentle storm.

The crimson haired girl raised her arms higher and smiled, causing her freckled cheeks to puff outward, and her tinkling laughter to erupt from her lips.

'Lily, STOP!' shouted Petunia, but it was too late. Lily's sister cringed with the sight of the sky. There was a large cloud poised just above the playground, and its dark, thick edges ruffled in profound greys, and shadowy near blacks. It floated heavy and closer.

'I want snow!' shouted the little girl laughing at the cloud over head. It started to lower a bit more and called the wind. On the wind floated white lace, this lace was cold and beautiful. It sparkled and mounted on every blade of grass until it buried the tall emerald swords. It edged the yard, and settled on the tiptop of the fence planks and posts. The little boy was mesmerised shrouded high in the tree branches, and glued to every move from Lily.

'She made it snow; she must be a witch. That is why her sister is afraid.'

He relaxed and smiled at the little chuckling girl with the whipping red hair that trailed behind her as she skipped around in the lovely snow.

'Put your hair to right, Lily, it is all over your head like an out of control bush!' shouted Petunia, pushing her own wild hair from her face. 'I want to go home. If I tell mother what you did, she will punish you, Lily, and I have a good mind to tell her. You are a freak!'

Lily quieted and allowed her sister to smooth her hair back, and tidy her cloths.

'There now,' Petunia said whilst smoothing her own hair back in place again and adjusting her cloths, which included dabbing at a noticeable grass stain on the hem of her skirt.

'Ugg, mummy will be furious! Just look at that stain on my skirt.'

However, before Petunia knew it, Lily laughed again. Petunia's eyes fell to the hem of her own skirt once more after scowling at her sister.

'Where did it go? What happened to the grass stain?' The girl scanned over her skirt, stretching the material and lifting it to check under the hem as well. Her blue eyes squinted into two slits, lifted from the skirt and glared at Lily.

'Lily, did you do this somehow?'

'Yes, Tuney. Stain gone!' She laughed and clapped her hands; the little child was proud of her accomplishment.

'You are an evil freak! I am telling mummy and daddy!' Her shouts made Lily cry, and that is when the little boy, Severus, struggled with his anger over the girl. He wanted to wallop Petunia for shouting at Lily like that. He wanted to protect the little girl that was like him. Finally, he found someone that could understand him. Finally, he had seen the one person that would change his life forever. He also found the other one that he would nearly despise as much as the boy who lived.

He watched as the two sisters left the playground for home. He carefully came out of the tree and walked to the edge of the road to watch them disappear round the corner. Severus knew he would see them again, and he wondered when he would say hi.

Long shadows reached like fingers across the cold, stone floor. On one side of the room resided a stone hearth, with several red embers flickering, becoming darker longer until the frozen, midnight air took their warmth. Across the room was a single bed, with a flannel duvet. The man it covered was sallow skinned and that was brought out more by the moonbeams that flooded onto his bed, and over his lank threads of black hair that sprawled over his grey pillow. His large hooked nose was a prominent feature as he slept on his back in his long nightshirt.

Stirred by memories, dreams, nightmares, his beetle black orbs snapped open. He blinked in the hoary moon light and pulled himself to a sitting position in his bedding. He looked about the room, and placed both hands over his eyes and removed them again to rest on his duvet-covered lap. This was reality now. Him, a Hogwarts professor, no longer that little boy.

He stared at the arched castle window, yet his mind was not on 10th century architecture, no his thoughts dwelt on a little girl, a little boy that remain in the fabric of dreams. It is all an echo now.

END


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